Every Word
by alittlesummerwine
Summary: Batman & Wonder Woman continue their secret relationship as the League, and their relationship, are faced with serious internal friction and a villainous plot by Gorilla Grodd. Another BMWW first. Set during the episode Secret Society.
1. Everything's Changed

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_Title: Every Word_

"_We meant every word" – a quote from J'onn J'onzz during the episode, "Secret Society"_

_A small summary: This story is set during the episode "Secret Society" where the Justice League faces serious internal friction, constantly fighting and bickering amongst one another and Gorilla Grodd sets up a team of villains to exploit the League's falling out._

_Again, the perspective changes with –VvV-_

Chapter 1, Everything's Changed, by Lonestar

"Everything's changed, except for the way I feel about you…"

_Diana's perspective…_

The past few weeks had been some of the most unusual since I had joined the Justice League – helping to battle a supernatural menace, being taken over by an evil snake spirit encapsulated in a gemstone known as the Black Heart, and continuing my secret relationship with Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as the Batman to our fellow Justice Leaguers. Somehow, the last possessed the greatest ability to disconcert me, to truly change my view of the world each moment that we managed to spend together.

Not, of course, that we had thus far managed to find an amazing amount of time to spend together. Our last two missions, Batman had chosen not to get involved, being too preoccupied with other matters in Gotham City and none of us could fault him for that. At least, not really. I understood that Gotham came first in priorities, over the League, but I also saw Batman as a fundamental part of the group, the unofficial leader in many capacities. How could he turn his back on us when we so desperately needed him?

Nevertheless, we had persevered, saving the world is whatever manner we could, with or without Batman, although I had sorely missed his presence. Since the night that we had first said that we loved one another, I had seen him all of twice, not including our weekly Justice League meetings.

That night, he had walked me to his bedroom, and being the perfect gentleman, he had let me wear a pair of his pajamas, silk of course, in a shade of midnight blue. I had made my way to the bathroom in order to change and emerged, with only silk guarding my skin from his eyes. Although, I have to admit, it was certainly more than I normally wore around him; my uniform wasn't for the apprehensive or insecure. The pajamas had been only slightly long – Bruce and I were rather close in height – and the slide of the silk had made me feel luscious, extremely feminine and ready to conquer the world. Or in this case, ready to make sure that my playboy was willing to spend the night at home.

With one look at me, he had dragged me into his arms, pummeling my lips with a merciless kiss, sweeping his hands up and down the sides of my body in taught strokes before finally releasing me. Both of us gasping for breath, he leaned down, resting his forehead along mine for long moments before giving me a sweet, soft kiss and leading me to his bed. That night, he had wrapped his arms around me and held me close throughout the few hours that we managed to steal together, wrapped in each other even in the confines of sleep and a king size bed. I had never felt more loved and appreciated.

Looking back on that night and the two that we had somehow pulled off since, I felt that things in the romantic sphere of my world were on target – going smoothly and I was pleased that thus far, our relationship had managed to survive going slowly, learning about one another and slowly adapting ourselves to this relationship and one another. The sensual and sexual tension that snared us every time that we were alone in each other's presence was steadily mounting, drawing to unparalleled proportions, the like of which I had never experienced and couldn't have imagined.

Thus far, the greatest difficultly we had encountered in our relationship was finding the time to actually have a relationship, especially without the other members of the team knowing about us. Although one of the members had found out fairly quickly, but his telepathic abilities had given him somewhat of a leg up on the other members of the League, at least in this sphere. Therefore, when I had seen J'onn during one of our weekly meetings looking askance at Bruce and me, orange eyes glowing, I had quickly determined that the Martian had figured out that something new, something different lay between us, and I had taken him aside after the meeting.

I had, of course, tried to get Bruce's attention during the meeting, to tell him that perhaps we both needed to stay and talk to J'onn, but, being Bruce, he had stalked out of the meeting as soon as it was deemed over, making his way quickly to the teleporter and avoiding the conversation entirely. A feat that I was less than surprised that he had managed to accomplish. Sometimes, it was impossible to take the Bat out of the man and when it came to his emotions, Bruce was not exactly the most open and talkative of individuals – more like a clam, and again, his escape artist mastery had served him well.

After the meeting had drawn to a close, I waited a few minutes in the conference room, trying to decide the best way to handle the conversation I had to have with J'onn. Upfront and forthright was the best way to handle it – I was more comfortable with the truth anyway and I would simply explain the circumstances that had led to our relationship and why that same relationship was still being kept under wraps.

Taking a deep breath, I had marched into the Monitor Womb of the Watchtower, intent on illuminating my still new relationship to the Martian Manhunter. Instead, I had taken one step into the room, red boots clicking on the floor, when he had turned and said to me –

"I understand, Diana."

I halted dead in my tracks and simply stared at him with a dumbfounded expression smeared across my face. _How could he possibly understand?_

"I understand what it is like to be in love and to not be ready to share that love with the world. You have excellent reasons for keeping this relationship to yourself, private from the media, the world, and even the team. I respect your wishes in this matter."

I couldn't even speak, I was so flabbergasted. I should have realized that J'onn would be more than understanding about the entire situation, just as the first to know about it, Alfred, had been entirely supportive, even encouraging. And I was overwhelmed by the sensations I could feel emanating from my teammate. I had been so sure that no one would empathize, that no one would defend Bruce's and my relationship, and I couldn't even begin to fathom, to put words to how grateful I was for J'onn to tell me that he understood.

A huge smile lit my face – it felt so good for someone to know, for one of the teammates to recognize the relationship budding between Bruce and me. I still felt that we had made the right decision in not telling the team at the inception, but somehow, a weight had fallen off of my chest, my shoulders were no longer so tired due to the knowledge that I had been forced to carry more or less alone. Bruce had never been one for telling anyone anything anyway, and even with Alfred, I assumed that Bruce had not had to say a word – that Alfred had simply recognized the situation for what it was and acted accordingly.

But now, everything had changed and I couldn't help but feel a little lighter at the thought. I pulled the slightly stunned Martian into a firm hug and after a moment, drew back, beaming from ear to ear with excitement, with knowing that I could finally talk to someone about the massive overhaul to what had been my overall dull, occasionally exciting life.

Letting him fall back into his seat, I sat in the chair next to him and began talking, opening up about everything that had happened to me in the last few weeks. I, of course, left out the part about figuring out Bruce's identity, although I had an idea that J'onn would have been one of the first to pick up on that secret. Still, I was taking no chances with the secret identity of the Batman, the Dark Knight and the vengeance behind Gotham.

For the next hour, while J'onn kept a sideways glance on potential and developing situations, I expounded on my relationship – on how Bruce and I had gone on the mission in Kasnia and how that had led to our recent declarations of love. I could hear the warmth and the affection creeping into my voice, but I simply couldn't prevent them – it was all part of the way that I felt about Bruce and I wasn't ashamed to let others know about it. I just wanted to solidify our relationship a little further before we somehow found the words to tell the others what lay between us.

J'onn, in between my explanations, somehow managed to fill the spaces, telling me that he understand the predicament that Batman and I were in, being part of a team and falling in love, not wanting others to worry about us in battle or think that we would only save or work with each other. In fact, he told me it was lovely that two members of his new family had made this type of connection, that we had acknowledged our feelings and were working to deepen them. I had the opinion that he was still a little surprised that Batman had managed to open up, that he had revealed his emotions and love for me. Truthfully, I was still a little surprised myself – the man was an enigma and a mystery and it was almost impossible to try to guess his reactions to anything, much less to a declaration of love.

At the end of our conversation, he had looked at me, serious as always, and had told me, "I wish the two of you every happiness, Diana. Please convey that to Batman as well." And then, with a small smile and what I thought might be a twinkle in his eye, he had returned my earlier hug with one of his own, a display of affection and of acceptance. And I took a moment to revel in it before giving him a small smile and returning to my room on the Watchtower, simply taking the time to bask in the glow of contentment before yet another mission called me away and back into danger.

_Next Chapter: Take This Job & Shove It – John Stewart calls a team meeting to discuss the importance of practicing teamwork within the League._


	2. Take This Job & Shove It

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_A small summary: This story is set during the episode "Secret Society" where the Justice League faces serious internal friction, constantly fighting and bickering amongst one another and Gorilla Grodd sets up a team of villains to exploit the League's falling out. If you want more, either watch it, email me, or read about it here! _

_Thanks for the reviews and I hope all of you are enjoying this take on "Secret Society"!_

Chapter 2, Take This Job & Shove It, by Johnny Paycheck

"Take this job and shove it, I ain't workin' here no more"

_Bruce's perspective…_

The weekly meeting at the Watchtower had been a relative waste of my time today, affording me the ability to see Diana, but to be completely unable to spend any time with her, unable to hold her close or even speak to her without an audience of avid spectators, each of them more than willing to try to find something in our words that would signify that something had changed between Diana and myself.

Therefore, at the first available opportunity, I had escaped the confines of the Watchtower, eager to leave temptation in my dust and find myself back in the cold, comforting surroundings of the Bat-cave. Often, these meetings were little more than ego-stroking and I rarely had the taste to indulge my ego with words when actions would say so much more.

I had barely even glanced at the luscious raven-haired goddess sitting next to me at the table today, preferring to keep my eyes averted and my attention elsewhere if at all possible, gazing instead into the boyish visage of Superman. Reigning in my impatience, a feat that was nearly impossible in and of itself, I had listened to Superman's words detailing the last terror that the team had faced, a mission I had avoided due to pressing issues within Gotham. The last few weeks, the City had seemed practically overrun with escapees from Arkham Asylum, intent on eluding capture and wreaking their particular havoc in Gotham in whatever form possible.

I had sat at the meeting table today, exhausted and sleep-deprived, and utterly aggravated at the utter and complete waste of time it had proved to be. All I wanted was a few hours of sleep and perhaps, if I was lucky, a little one-on-one time with a certain Princess. Our time together lately had been few and far between, owing to circumstances I would have preferred avoiding in Gotham and her demanding schedule of back-to-back missions. A little time together certainly wouldn't have gone amiss, but all I could think of during that meeting was how soothing the back of my eyelids appeared to be. As a result, I had stalked out of the meeting as soon as the word adjourned had left Superman's lips, not even pausing to give Diana a second glance, certain that would only lead to disaster in my current state of wishful thinking and sleep-deprivation.

The teleporter had speedily sent me home where I had a cup of coffee handed to me immediately upon my departure from the device, courtesy of Alfred. Truly, the man was often a god-send, knowing exactly what I needed in order to stem off the lure of sleep for a short time, just enough to allow me to head to the computer for a little research on what tonight's patrol would bring.

Sipping the scorching liquid as if it were the last vestiges of heaven, and to me in that instant, it was, I ran through the list of active criminals, trying to get a lead on what possible locales I could stake out during the night. Due to my activities of the recent weeks, the list was rather short, allowing me to focus my brain onto just a few criminal minds currently active in Gotham City. Sorting through the information available to me, I began to compile a list of potential targets, possible hideouts, and what type of social activities were occurring in the city that evening – high end parties, sporting events, anything that would invite either money or the masses. I noted with some interest that the Gotham Knights would be playing in a particularly high-profile sporting event this weekend, but for now, that knowledge was superfluous and ineffectual for tonight.

Blinking wearily at the screen, I began to hope in earnest that the caffeine would soon register in my system, but I was unable to tear myself away from the computer screen whilst in the search for information and evidence. Glancing quickly at the clock, I noticed that it had been some time since the meeting and that night was fast falling outside the walls of Wayne Manor. Anytime spent between the sheets today would have to wait until later – it was again time for patrol.

I was on the verge of wrapping up my patrol, body weary with exhaustion and pleading for sleep when a call came in from my Justice League communicator. Rather than ignore it, as was my first impulse, I answered it, certain that this would have to be considerably important for them to call me at this hour. Indeed, the tone of the Green Lantern's voice was certainly grave as he called for me to meet him and the other members of the team.

Converging on the rooftop of a building in downtown Central City, I arrived just prior to Flash and Superman, standing on the edges of the group while waiting to hear what had induced this impromptu meeting. Standing opposite the five of us were John Stewart and the Martian Manhunter, J'onn J'onzz, each with a serious expression, but that wasn't unusual for either of the two men. I stood rather rigidly, trying to keep my usually intimidating posture while wishing wholly for a steaming cup of caffeine-laced coffee. As usual, I let Superman lead the group, charging in with his endless questions while I surveyed the situation, allowing myself to clearly understand the situation and the people around me.

"What's the problem?" Superman asked, stepping forward to address John Stewart and J'onn J'onzz.

"Us," the Green Lantern stated baldly, "We're not working together as well as we could."

Flash sped forward to take a place at Stewart's side, eager to refute the man's statement of our ineptitude.

"C'mon," the speedster commented with a smile, "We're batting close to a thousand." Trust the Flash to phrase the matter in such a way, but the attempt at levity did little to lighten the expression on John's face. I began to get some idea of what had prompted the conversation here tonight and I also was receiving a fairly clear picture of what these two men intended for us and I wanted no part of it. I was never one to be described as a team player and I could only imagine the duality of that particular torture – working side-by-side with Diana during practices and having to spend additional time away from Gotham, time I was rapidly losing for a multitude of reasons.

"A lot of that has been luck," John declared, "We've taken some pretty bad hits along the way."

I surreptitiously observed the others, wanting to get their honest reactions to the proposition being made by the Green Lantern and the Martian Manhunter and knowing that the others were more likely than myself to wear their true feelings on their faces and in their body language. Flash looked slightly aggrieved that Stewart had referred to our previous victories as nothing more than luck, childishly pouting and trying to stare John down at the same time. Hawkgirl, one Shayera Hol, looked aggravated by the circumstances of the meeting, but I was somewhat surprised to see that her mace was still hanging innocuously from her hip, a sure sign that she was at least listening to this teamwork drivel. She had never struck me as being that happy to be part of a team, more of a loner like myself, a former detective on Thanagar who was used to solving the puzzles by herself rather than relying on those around to, as circumstances had forced her to. Superman was of course listening intently to the words of John Stewart, processing them with a slightly quizzical and concerned expression on his face, probably wondering why he had never thought of team exercises before tonight. And Diana…

Well, I found it better for my sanity in my sleep-deprived state to steer clear of looking at Diana – I needed my thoughts focused on the situation rather than on her form. I needed all my wits and the brain is a fickle thing when a beautiful woman is in its sights.

But then I heard her voice asking the same question that was in everyone else's mind, the very question I was dreading hearing the answer to and not only looked her way, but moved closer, standing just a foot or two to her left.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Practice," answered John. A collective sigh heaved from the group, particularly loud from the female and Flash contingent of the group and I began to hope that this idea would indeed be pushed aside due to lack of interest. I had more than enough to currently occupy my plate and practice be damned. I could see an expression of dismay flit over Diana's face and I wondered if it was because she too had realized that this "practice" would certainly cut into whatever time we could make for one another. I certainly preferred that I practice my relationship skills and not my teamwork – there were some particular things that I enjoyed about a relationship that teamwork simply couldn't provide, yet another reason for my sleepless state.

And then J'onn entered the conversation, stemming the disapproval emanating from the group with a few choice words.

"It's that or more of what happened tonight."

Shayera had crept up between Diana and I and the five of us had formed a semi-circle facing John and J'onn, our faces each turning to each other to see what the others thought of this proposal.

Shayera spoke up, "What do we really have to lose?"

And then I felt the need to put my two cents into the conversation – I barely tolerated the formality of the group – the meetings and whatnot, but this was beyond what I had signed on for. I had chosen part-time member status because I had other commitments, commitments including more than just the Justice League and now they were threatening to take away what little time I had away from Wayne Enterprises and Gotham City.

"Time," I declared, crossing my arms over my chest and staring John Stewart directly in the face. I could feel Diana glancing at me but I kept my eyes facing firmly forward, until, as usual, Superman reigned on my parade with his team ethic.

"A little more teamwork wouldn't hurt any of us," he said, turning to include me in his statement and I wanted to either hit him, something I knew would lead to an immediate hospital visit, or roll my eyes in aggravation like a parent with a small child who thwarts them simply for the pleasure in it. I knew that the sadistic Boy Scout would enjoy the practice and would thrive on a team-building exercise and I wanted to stalk off into the night, but something held me there, someone held me there.

"Looks like you're outvoted," Lantern told me and again, I felt the urge to roll my eyes – as if we were a democracy and I a voting member. Instead, I held my temper and decided to simply humor the fools – I would supplement some of my normal exercises with some Justice League practice routines instead. But I wasn't about to let them get away with thinking that they had managed to one-up the Batman. I dropped my arms to my sides and drew up to my full height, slitting my eyes and glaring at the Green Lantern currently in my face with a smug look. And as the smug look disappeared, I realized that I still craved a cup of coffee and with a swift movement, I turned and disappeared out of sight, intent on salvaging at least part of this night with either some sleep or some caffeine.

_Next Chapter: Bad Moon Rising – The team spends a little time on the practice range, bringing tensions to the surface and never realizing that their every movement is being watched…_


	3. Bad Moon Rising

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_A small summary: This story is set during the episode "Secret Society" where the Justice League faces serious internal friction, constantly fighting and bickering amongst one another and Gorilla Grodd sets up a team of villains to exploit the League's falling out. If you want more, either watch it, email me, or read about it here! _

_Thanks for the reviews and I hope all of you are enjoying this take on "Secret Society"!_

_Again, the perspective changes with –VvV-_

Chapter 3, Bad Moon Rising, by Creedence Clearwater Revival

"I see a bad moon rising, I see trouble on the way-"

_Diana's perspective…_

Our first teamwork practice had been a less than successful endeavor, but it had taught us a valuable lesson – we weren't functioning as a team, but as individuals laced together with a common goal. And unfortunately, it simply wasn't enough to keep us afloat forever. I had to admit that John had indeed had a point about teamwork, even if it was a concept that I was unaccustomed to thinking about. My sisters and I on Themyscira had always seemed to be a team – thousands of years of practice and training had bonded us together as nothing else and we had formed a sisterhood of trust, of teamwork.

Even after today though, I wasn't convinced that that kind of bond could be established here within the Justice League. We were a piecemeal group of individual talents and strengths, accustomed to working alone in many cases. Several of us were still establishing our roles here on Earth – myself, Shayera, and J'onn included, while others were loners by nature, including a certain someone I had recently found myself becoming involved with.

How could we establish an unbreakable bond when it was obvious that we only trusted one another to a certain point? Many members still had secret identities, like Bruce Wayne, and that knowledge was not something that they were wiling to share, even after months of working closely together. How were we supposed to trust each other in battle when we couldn't yet trust one another in life?

But I don't think John understood that. He was used to things being run in a certain way, a rigid way of practice that leads to perfection and to trust and I simply couldn't find it in myself to point out the flaws in his plan. Instead, I tried to keep a positive attitude, to see the constructive aspects of this new training regimen.

This afternoon, John had taken us to a deserted area, dilapidated structures dating a main street like those you find in an old western movie. The buildings had made me laugh a little at the absurdity of the situation – it wasn't often I found myself fighting outside an old-fashioned saloon. But after I caught John giving me the evil eye, I quickly turned my attention to watching my teammates take on whatever John could throw at them in a simulation exercise.

The landscape was virtually deserted other than the occasional cry of a hawk soaring through the sky and the old-fashioned buildings gave off an eerie feeling of total aloneness. For an exercise in teamwork, I was already feeling rather alone among this backdrop that time had forgotten. The feeling of laughter had faded and I focused instead on my teammates to see what John had in store for us.

It had started with Superman alone on the course, later to be joined by J'onn and Hawkgirl. Flash and Batman were nowhere to be seen, presumably off on other missions or busy with other matters, and I waited with John on top of one of the buildings to survey the action.

Superman began to slowly stroll down the street, head turning side to side to examine his surroundings and check for any abnormalities in the scene. Amidst his slow assessment, the figure of Darkseid sprayed up about ten feet in front of him and Superman quickly dispatched the villain with his heat vision, slicing through the middle of the make-believe Darkseid, the pieces falling to the sides on the dirt as dust rose in misty clouds of debris. Almost before I could blink, to Superman's right arose the figure of Lex Luthor, complete with his green jetpack suit and a smug look to his face. Superman again employed his heat vision, lancing the midsection of Luthor from shoulder to shoulder without breaking his stride.

As the top of Luthor toppled to the ground, the menacing figure of Brainiac appeared in the window of one of the buildings and again, Superman used his heat vision in order to dispatch him as well, a red beam slicing through the villain within seconds.

But the slue of arch-enemies still wasn't complete as yet another rose from Superman's right, formerly concealed by a large wooden barrel. The figure, rather tiny, popped up dressed in purple within feet of Superman and his fist made short work of this foe, crushing through the middle of the figure and sending pieces flying.

He continued down the street, eyes open and alert for any signs of danger, moving quickly and stealthily. Just ahead of him, another figure popped up and he moved to lance it with his vision when J'onn appeared in front of the recent pop-up, holding out his hand to signal Superman to stop and shouting out, "No!"

Superman relaxed and J'onn moved away from the figure to reveal a little girl grasping her teddy bear and smiling a beguiling grin, an utterly adorable sight.

Intent on maintaining my positive demeanor, I had told John that I thought the exercise hadn't gone badly, but he wasn't quite finished with the training of this particular group. After a few moments of silence, two armed robots appeared at the other end of the street, mechanically shooting at J'onn and Superman, easy targets out in the open. Hawkgirl took to the skies, using her mace to remove one of the robots before continuing her path in the sky, flying in a wide circle in order to dodge the bullets and take a pass at the other robot. Just before he swung her mace, I could hear her other teammates yelling at her to stop, but it was too late, as the mace landed, the robot blew up, the explosion toppling her and eventually landing Hawkgirl next to us on the rooftop.

John helped her to rise to her feet, reprimanding her and her teammates the entire team.

"It was booby-trapped," he told her in an obvious after statement.

"How was I supposed…?" Hawkgirl began to angrily counter, but she was quickly cut off as Superman and J'onn joined their fallen teammate on the rooftop.

"Either one of your partners could have told you," John stated as he turned to reproach the arrivals. "One's psychic and the other has X-ray vision."

And that had been the first of our lessons for the afternoon. So now, I sat covered in cuts and bruises courtesy of my time on the practice field, training to be a part of the Justice League team. After my time in the teamwork building exercises, I not only believed the exercises to be futile, but also painful. But I believed that John had a point and I was willing to indulge him and to make the sacrifice to better ourselves as a unit.

Somehow, I had the feeling that some of the other members would not be wiling to exercise the same level of patience…

-VvV-

I finally relented to join the other members of the Justice League at the practice facility a few days after John had made the initial suggestion. I knew that the other members had all made at least one showing, but, as always, Gotham was the first priority and my time was not to be wasted trying to make nice and being forced to play as a team. I didn't care what any of the others said – I was not meant to be a team player and I still felt no need to be mandated into servitude.

My frustration level had risen to new highs lately – tempered only by solitude and rededication to my mission. I was disheartened but unsurprised by the rash of recent escapes in Gotham and the overall ineptitude of the city's police force. I was irritated by the lack of sleep I was still facing, my health by and large beginning a steady decline as I spent nights patrolling the city of Gotham and my days ensconced at Wayne Enterprises maneuvering takeovers and playing the corporate game. And above all, my relationship with Diana had reached a peak and had yet to continue the steady climb into bliss – I couldn't even make time for her much less get my hands on her.

I was suffering from a serious lack of light and sweetness in my life that I had only recently come to appreciate and I knew that soon, my temper would no longer be able to be moderated, resulting in some unfortunate soul on the receiving end of my wrath and utter frustration.

As a whole, I didn't mind that Diana and I had decided to take things slowly – I was more than accustomed to the occasional cold shower – but lately our lives had steadily revolved in opposite directions, as if her vengeful gods had taken an unhappy view of our relationship and had decided to rectify the situation by not allowing us to be together in other than a work capacity.

And I was pissed.

How better to channel that emotion than to join the silly exercises invented by John Stewart in the hopes of creating team solidarity?

I arrived at the practice field just in time to join the team of Flash and Diana. We took our places at the edge of the deserted town and made our way steadily forward, backs to the open desert, when a horde of ten or so robots appeared, armed and steadily advancing on us. They began firing rounds and we sprung into action – Flash taking off down the wooden planked porches of the buildings, drawing fire he escaped with the speed of his feet. At the end of one of the porches lay a wooden barrel and Flash quickly tore off the top, slicing it through the air and beheading four of the robots with a single throw.

Diana advanced slowly forward, shielding herself with her bracelets, facing five robots with little more than her bracelets to protect her from the shots fired at her.

I immediately unleashed my grapple, hooking onto one of the roofs and letting the line carry me into the air. Reaching an altitude of several feet, I let loose with a series of batarangs with a grunt and exploding the robots opposite Diana. I could feel a look being aimed at my back, one that suggested Diana wasn't too happy that I had worked to protect her rather than work with her. But I knew that I was close to breaking point and I didn't want Diana to be the focus of my wrath; better that I leave before taking my ire out with immediate and potentially dire consequences to my fledgling relationship.

I threw one last batarang at the last robot, exploding it in its path and invoking Flash's ire for my trouble.

"Hey! That was my bad guy!"

As John landed in a stream of green between Flash and I, I strode up to him, pausing for a moment to utter the word – "Happy?"

"Call me when it's important. And not before," I told Lantern and without another word or look, I stalked off and into the descending Bat-jet, eager to put this entire episode behind me and hoping that I had managed to circumvent a clash of words between myself and Diana.

_Next chapter: Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough – the tension heats up (and maybe erupts) between a certain twosome…_


	4. Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_I'm hoping for 7 reviews per chapter - help me out! For those of you who haven't reviewed the story before, I'd really appreciate it!_

_LG – the Chocolate reference is for you! Junk Food Junkies unite!_

_Again, the perspective changes with –VvV-_

Chapter 4, Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough, by Patty Smyth & Don Henley

"Yes, I may have hurt you, but I did not desert you, maybe I just want to have it all…There's a danger in loving somebody too much and it's sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust, there's a reason why people don't stay where they are, baby, sometimes, love just ain't enough…"

_Diana's perspective…_

I walked off the practice field that afternoon, still irate at the treatment that I had received at Bruce's hands earlier during our team building exercises. No matter how many times I tried to think about it rationally, I could not fathom his reasons for protecting me, for taking over my rightful place as a member of the team and rendering me utterly useless, not even worthy enough to be part of the team.

Being involved in a relationship gave the man no right to order me around, to usurp me in battle and to utterly hurt my feelings by protecting me, acting as if I wasn't capable. I was more than capable and I had proved it whenever possible, facing off against numerous villains and foes, taking on whatever missions I could in order to prove my worth, to justify my position on the team.

And now, again, I was being doubted, being forced to play second-fiddle because the Batman had deemed it so. Well, I was not a woman to be messed with and thousands of years of Amazon rage and anger came pouring into me, infusing me with a backbone of steel, ready and determined to take on my lover and give him a piece of my mind and quite possibly a piece of my fist.

Yet, beneath my veneer of steel, my heart ached, hurt at the knowledge that after all we had been through that Batman, that Bruce, had yet to trust me. I had assumed when he had decided to give our relationship a chance that he had been willing to trust me, to have faith in me and in us. And now I realized that we still had a long way to go, that this relationship was not on the steady ground that I had understood it to be on, that perhaps this entire relationship was becoming mist and smoke, a less than solid foundation to build on.

I understandably knew very little about male-female intimate relationships, but I knew that I had to stand up for myself no matter what, to not let go of this hurt, this anger, until I got some answers, satisfactory or not. I needed to confront Bruce, to surprise him, even if on his home turf, and to show him that I was not a woman in need of protection; I was a woman in need of trust.

Putting my emotions aside for a moment, I glanced quickly into the mirror, swiping at the iridescent tears that had formed on my eyelids despite my resolution not to let them fall. I had managed to keep the flood of emotions concealed, for the most part, but apparently I was more hurt than I had originally comprehended.

After ridding myself of the tears, I took another long look and myself and I couldn't help but feel proud of what I saw – I appeared strong and dominant, ready to take on the world and whatever Batman could throw my way. Still in my uniform, schooling my face into battle lines, I stepped out of my room and made my way down the corridor to the teleporter, intent on cornering the Bat in his cave.

-VvV-

After breaking away from the joy of the team building exercises, I had returned to the Bat-cave to spend the afternoon in search of better pursuits – delving into potential criminal plots and investigating recent thefts in the city of Gotham. It seemed as if my entire life recently had revolved only around my nighttime activities and pursuit of criminals, barely enough time to sleep and eat and certainly not enough time to have a life outside of criminal pursuit.

Even after returning from the field today, I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on what had occurred this afternoon, or given myself even a minute for me, just me, Bruce. Sleep was still a commodity that I was in desperate need of, yet I knew that it was a long time coming. Patrol was only a short time away and I needed to keep my mind sharp, to alleviate my need for sleep in whatever manner that I could in that short a time.

Turning away from the computer, I found myself wishing once again for a cup of coffee, an energy drink, anything to wake myself from this stupor of sleepiness. I called up to Alfred, asking him to bring me a pot of coffee as soon as humanly possible. Searching in earnest for something to eat, some chocolate or something to bring my brain back up to speed, I failed to hear the teleporter announcing an arrival to the Bat-cave.

Finally locating the errant chocolate bar, I tore at the wrapper, indulging myself in that first meltingly magical bite and steeling myself to return to the computer, to spend just a few more minutes in exploration before I set off for my evening patrol.

"I believe we need to talk," I heard a familiar voice state from across the room and I turned, chocolate bar in hand, surprised at the ability of Princess Diana to enter the Bat-cave without my knowledge. Apparently I was more tired than I had thought. And from the look on her face, this was the conversation that I had been hoping to avoid when I left the team earlier. She stood with her hands on her hips, and not in the teasing stance that I come to affectionately adore, but in stern, rigid lines that bespoke of her current state of mind. Her face appeared set in stone, a carefully crafted countenance of resentment and rage, the blue eyes lacking their usual sparkle and the lightness that I had come to believe was an innate part of Diana was missing, no matter how deeply I searched her expression.

Suddenly, I was deeply grateful for my cowl.

I had a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with the expression on Diana's face, the certain knowledge that she was through with the complications that I brought to a relationship, the lack of time, the lack of absolutely everything. I knew my limitations and relationships were certainly not my forte – I was stunned it had taken Diana this long to throw in the towel; but nonetheless, I was resigned to facing my fate without breaking.

"Why?" I asked her, lacing the words with as much harshness as I could muster, drawing my cape close around me to hide the sudden fragility in my spine and unthinkingly dropping the candy bar to the floor, lost in the heat of the moment.

"I am not weak," she stated in the calmest, most deadly voice that I had ever heard her use in my presence, utterly intent on stating her case and obviously feeling very confident in her decision.

"I am not someone you need to protect. And I am not helpless." Her voice rose with each word until the cave began to echo with the sounds emanating from the mouth of Diana and I waited in agony, certain that whatever happiness I had found with her was over before it had even had a chance to begin.

"I cannot believe that you would treat me like some doll, like some woman in need of cosseting and comforting whenever danger makes an appearance. I am a warrior, I am a Princess, and I am the last person you should ever feel the need to protect."

She looked directly at me, lowering her voice before stating in a voice mixed with sadness, "I thought we were partners, equals on and off the field of battle."

Diana stopped, taking a deep breath and looking down at the floor, obviously trying to reign in her emotions and make her argument. And I just stood there helplessly, a prisoner of my emotions, knowing that I had no excuses for my behavior, that whatever Diana decided, I would accept.

And then she raised her eyes, and I could see the sheen of tears on the dark spike of her lashes as she asked me, "Was I wrong about us, Bruce?"

I stood silent for a moment, trying to work whatever words I could past the lump that had emerged in my throat.

"Diana," I said softly, "I…"

Pulling my cape in tighter, I braced myself for the evitable tirade I received from the women I entered into a relationship with – the litany of excuses that I always made, the lack of time I made for them, the skewed priorities in my life, but none of that came from the woman facing me across the room, her anger having faded into the sad expression she now faced me with.

Suddenly, I realized that this woman was different, that she didn't expect any more from me that I had to give and that she understood the limitations that I faced in my relationships and in myself. But I couldn't find the words to tell her that I was sorry, to apologize for my actions this afternoon. I felt choked; I needed to escape the emotional tension flooding the room.

Hearing the sound of footsteps echoing from the stairs that led to the Manor, I saw the distraction on Diana's face and immediately fled, striding, practically running to the Batmobile to begin my patrol for the evening, intent on escaping the room with whatever shards of pride I had left.

-VvV-

I watched in disbelief as the taillights of the Batmobile rocketed out of the cave and away from the discussion that I had been trying to undertake. I knew that Bruce was uncomfortable with emotion and I had tried to pose my argument in rational statements, but obviously, I had failed in that endeavor and Bruce had fled at the first available opportunity.

"Princess Diana?" I looked over to see Alfred staring at me with concern written on his face. Clearly he had witnessed Bruce's speedy escape and had heard our quarrel and now he wanted to help me with the situation.

"I don't know what happened, Alfred. I thought we were doing so well and now I see that he doesn't trust me, that he doesn't think of me as an equal in this relationship or as teammates." My anger had faded, replaced now with sadness, with the hurt that I had been feeling all day rising to the surface, overwhelming me with the flood of emotions.

"If I may say something," Alfred began quietly, looking at me with a sweet softness in his eyes before continuing, "While Master Bruce has never been one to trust easily, I do know that you are among those that he does confide in, else he would never have brought you here, allowed you to see the Bruce behind the Batman."

"I might add, Princess Diana, that Master Bruce has always had a wide protective streak, putting whomever he cares for in his circle of protection and as of late, that circle has expanded to include yourself."

I stared into his eyes, taking comfort in his words, but still upset with Bruce's abrupt departure and earlier actions.

"He loves you, Princess Diana, take heart in that."

Alfred's final words made me realize that my conversation with Bruce was far from over and that, no matter what, I couldn't stop my heart from loving Bruce, but I still had a few things to discuss with him...

_**Question: In one of the upcoming chapters, I'm planning to show how the group reforges the bonds of friendship after all is said and done. I was thinking of someone along the lines of a Friendship Day(for lack of thinking of anything else to call it) where they all spend time together as a group, maybe even some gift giving. Anyone have any goods ideas that they're willing to share and let me use? Ideas for activities, presents, a name for it, anything will get them back to being friends and moving past the harshness of this episode. Feel free to include it in a review or email me!**_

_**Next chapter: Real Bad Mood/Go Your Own Way – the team decided to take a little time to themselves…**_


	5. Real Bad Mood & Go Your Own Way

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them, including some of the dialogue and action. Just trying to enhance the experience..._

_Well, I got 6 out of the 7 reviews (so far) I'd hoped for and I really appreciate them! Thanks for the ideas and again, if you have any more for this "Friendship Day" and are willing to share, let me know! Or if you think it sounds stupid. Whichever._

Chapter 5, Real Bad Mood, by Marie Sisters/Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac

"Yeah, I wanna chew on something, honey, anybody's ass will do, and I'm in a real bad mood"

"You can go your own way…You can call it another lonely day"

_Bruce's perspective…_

While winging through the sky in the Bat-jet, patrolling the streets of Gotham, I had heard news that I had been dreading for some time – the release of Clayface. The list of criminals out on the loose was growing steadily larger, much to my dismay. I had imagined the criminal to be safe in lockdown, contained on a small island by a multi-millionaire mogul, but as usual, the criminal mind finds a way around every type of prison. But this news was indeed unexpected and potentially explosive…

Taking a detour down to the Caribbean island where Morgan Edge, the multi-millionaire mogul, was being held, I made a surprise visit to the hospital room of the multi-millionaire in order to discover how Clayface had made his daring escape. He would have needed help and I needed to know who had supplied it. I entered the room via a window and immediately set out to calm Edge, keeping my voice very soothing and handing him a cup of water to quench his thirst and clear his throat.

"Who did this to you?" I asked him.

"All I saw was a shadow that was…alive!" he told me, and I narrowed my eyes as I realized the culprit behind the release of Clayface – Shade.

I returned to the jet and made my way back to the States, running though the ramifications of this potential partnership of Shade and Clayface, trying to understand what had brought the pair together, determining potential targets and heists.

I arrived at the site where I had concluded that Clayface would make an appearance without having a clear determination in my head of what the partnership of these two men could bring about and what had brought them together – frustration from yet another sphere of my life.

I knew that I had avoided the earlier conversation with Diana, but I simply wasn't ready to deal with either her or my own emotions. I didn't have the time or, truthfully, the willingness to make the effort at this point in time. I was tired, I was aggravated, and I was on the trail of a criminal that I had hoped was locked up for good. Locking down on my emotions was the best thing that I could do for myself right now – Diana would simply have to wait until I was in a more tenable position to talk to her.

Entering through the roof of the site, I waited patiently for Clayface's appearance at the factory, and in less than an hour, my tolerance was rewarded when the muddy figure made his way to the release valve positioned just below me. Slinging an electrified batarang, I hit him square in the back, causing him to scream with the suffering caused by the arc lancing through his body. He collapsed, releasing the valve as he slid to the floor and I made my way down to the area where he laid, a muddied pile on the floor.

"Always trying to find a cure, aren't you?" I asked him as I stood over his prone figure.

"Can you blame me?" he whispered, the batarang still sending out jolts of electricity into his system and he slithered and writhed, trying to rid himself of the intrusion in his back.

"No," I told him baldly, "But it's made you predictable." I stood there, watching him struggle to escape the batarang and the line of questioning.

"This is the only company in the world that makes what you need," I stated although I was certain Clayface was also in possession of this knowledge. But I was here on a greater purpose and I had more information to seek out. "Now, where's Shade?"

He raised himself on his arms and looked back at me for a moment before pointing towards the darkness on the other side of the release valve, where smoke curled in the direction of the ceiling in heavy wisps. "Over there."

From amidst the smoke and shadows emerged a slim, pale figure clothed in black, head covered with a black top hat and holding a long black staff. I smiled in anticipation, knowing that my prey was in my sights, only to be alerted to the fact that Shade and Clayface were not the only ones in this building other than myself tonight. Other individuals began to materialize – Killer Frost, blue hair and icy hands leading her out of the darkness; Parasite, looking angry and intent on staring me down; a lovely red-headed woman towering over Parasite in a pink haltered toga – Giganta; and finally, Sinestro, the Green Lantern's arch enemy, lighting the darkness with his yellow power ring.

Clayface slid to his feet in an arc of mud, joining his comrades while looming over me, massive fists ready to take me apart at the first opportunity.

"You didn't think I'd come here without reinforcements, did you?" he asked me in a harsh voice, a grin lighting his miry face.

"Wish I'd thought of that," I said, answering his taunt while simultaneously sending a thought to the brain of J'onn J'onzz. The garage door directly behind me lit with green light before crumpling to the floor, revealing my fellow Justice League teammates in silhouette.

"Oh, wait," I told Clayface, "I did." My face lit in an unholy grin as I realized that this time, our team had the element of surprise with us, that this Secret Society had been unprepared for the arrival of the rest of the Justice League. I had alerted them earlier when I had received the news about Clayface and once I had discovered the location I knew that Clayface would turn up.

Power rings blazing, Green Lantern and Sinestro immediately began to clash, slicing through the air with bands of yellow and green.

I heard Diana roaring that she'd take the big one, Giganta, quickly followed by Hawkgirl making the same claim. Mace clenched in her fist, she flew up to the side of Diana and, in tandem, they headed towards Giganta. As if they were flies, the sizeable lady smacked them to the side with her perfectly manicured hand. The two women landed heavily, crashing to the cement floor with a thud.

Superman faced off with one of his usual foes, Parasite, who immediately leapt towards Superman, trying in his usual fashion to use his powers to temporarily absorb the energy of the Kryptonite, to leave him weak and open to attack. But, quick as a wink, Superman wrapped his hands around one of the building pillars, using the column to knock Parasite to the side.

Shade, picking up his "nightstick," used it to manipulate the darkness, aiming it straight at Flash. The speedster immediately ran to the side, flipping himself on top of the stream of night and using it as a slide, sending his feet smoothly along the shade emanating from the staff of Shade and using his fist to stop him by plowing it smoothly into the creepy villain.

Killer Frost created a column of ice, sending her spiraling towards the ceiling before she leapt off the top, sending spikes of frozen water towards J'onn J'onzz. The Martian quickly dematerialized, allowing the ice to crash harmlessly into the floor as he took off into the air in pursuit of his blue-haired foe.

I, on the other hand, was thoroughly occupied eluding the massive muddy paws of Clayface, dodging and rolling in evasive maneuvers. As he changed his hands into weaponry, I pulled loose a batarang and flung it at him, again electrifying him into stopping his angry charge.

We all continued to fight for minutes, clashing and slashing, eluding and evading as we battled the members of this Secret Society, a group that consisted of some of our greatest foes.

Suddenly, John fell from the sky, untouched by Sinestro, but apparently suffering from something, or, as my mind told me, someone. None of these villains had the capability of being the ringleader, the master of these criminal minds and I knew that someone else was controlling the strings, and perhaps, our minds. Someone like Gorilla Grodd.

But this was no time for revelations.

Noticing that John had fallen, Hawkgirl immediately flew towards him, abandoning Diana in their fight against Giganta in her need to care for John. Giganta instantly took advantage of the situation, sending Diana into a collision with the floor underneath Giganta's fist. As Hawkgirl tried to resuscitate John, Sinestro fashioned his yellow light into an axe. He was preparing to send the form through John and Hawkgirl when Superman, having captured Parasite in a metal band, looked up and observing the situation, sent a ray of his heat vision into Sinestro. The villain rocketed across the room, bursting through a pipe on the opposite side of the room, sending water and steam flowing through the factory.

Freeing himself, Parasite leapt onto Superman, sapping his strength like a leech. I still had my hands full with Clayface until finally, I hit a pipe behind him with a batarang and liquid oxygen pumped through the air, freezing the mud man in his tracks. I quickly sent a grapple towards Parasite, looping the line around his neck and yanking with all my might. But the villain had other plans, shooting me in the shoulder with a laser, an ability that he had acquired from Superman. The ice around Clayface melted, freeing him and he used my momentary distraction with Parasite against me, sending me flying into a tube with a mallet he had fashioned from his fists, and rendering me unconscious.

When I came to, the villains had disappeared, apparently through a gaping hole in the wall from Giganta's fists, and the first sounds I heard were voices raised in anger, each one of us accusing the others of poor teamwork, poor judgment, and poor performances.

Rising to my feet, I turned to my right, facing Green Lantern. "So much for practice makes perfect."

Flash's voice rose in agitation and he strode over, rubbing the back of his head. "I thought we were practicing teamwork! Not one guy tells everybody else what to do!"

Green Lantern turned to look at him, eyes flashing in anger. "Somebody has to be in charge and it couldn't very well be you!"

Flash pointed a finger at John, obviously close to jabbing him in the chest and giving reign to his fury. "You know, I'm getting really sick of…"

Superman rose from the floor, cutting Flash off in mid-sentence. "Will you both shut up? I've had better luck handling whole armies. And you know why? Because I didn't have to worry about anyone but myself."

"Then why don't you go back to that?" Hawkgirl screamed back at him.

"You think I haven't considered it?" he snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking as annoyed as I had ever seen him, especially surrounded by those who were fighting the good fight, fighting on the same side as himself. Several of the other members gasped in surprise, but I was less than shocked – the man came off as a wholesome team player, but I knew how easy it was to work alone, to rely on no one but myself and I relied only on my mind and my finely honed body. Superman was a hero with serious powers and strengths, often limited by his teammates, and I could understand his frustration. Today had been a day of frustration and it seemed that it wasn't close to ending just yet.

Flash spoke up. "This whole stinking group was your idea and now you don't want to do it anymore?"

"You men," Diana spat out, obviously allowing her anger at me to seep into this situation as well. I knew that I had handled our discussion poorly, but it wasn't until now that I realized just how badly I had mismanaged it, leaving as I had and not simply saying the words that Diana needed to hear and explaining myself. "Unless you do it on your own, it doesn't count."

"It's not just the men, you stuck-up…" Hawkgirl stated and I bristled at the implied insult to Diana, but I felt unable to protect her in this sphere, only the physical apparently.

"Stop it!" J'onn yelled, "Stop it right now!" He faced us, standing formally, his voice fading to a solemn undertone as he continued. "I came to this planet not knowing a soul and you took me in. You became my new family. But what's the use of a family that diminishes us as individuals?"

"What…?" Flash sputtered, "What are you…?"

"I'm saying I survived the loss of one family. And I'll survive this one too." He turned, striding out of the building without looking back. We all turned to look at each other, trying desperately to patch the situation but finding nothing in the other's faces that led us to believe that we could again fight as a team. I avoided looking at Diana's face, concerned over what I would see there, but none of the other faces seemed to have any hope. And so, knowing that I had always been on my own before, I left.

_Next Chapter: Who Will You Run To - The team has disbanded...what now?_

_Anyone have any ideas for the "Friendship Day?"_


	6. Who Will You Run To

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or any of the rest of them. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_All comments appreciated!_

_Short chapter this time. Personally, it's one of my favorites that I've written, but feel free to disagree._

Chapter 6, Who Will You Run To, by Heart (one of the best bands ever, in my humble opinion)

"You found a new world and you wanna taste it, but that world can turn cold and you better face it! Who will you run to when it all falls down? Who's gonna love you, babe, as good as I?"

_Diana's perspective…_

After we informally disbanded the Justice League, I walked woodenly out one of the side entrances to the factory, intent on escaping as quickly as possible and holding my feelings firmly in check. This day had turned into a nightmare of emotions, of hurt feelings, and of anger, and I simply couldn't handle it anymore. I needed to breathe, to relax and regroup and just be with myself, just be Diana for a few moments.

I headed out into the night, feeling a breeze stir my hair and wash over my cheeks, mingling with the wetness rapidly appearing there. I had no idea of where I was headed, knowing only that I needed this time to recover from the emotional outpouring I had just left and the loss of another family for myself.

I was in a similar situation to J'onn, having come from a foreign land, being unable to return to my home, and seeking solace in my new teammates, forming bonds of friendship and family with them that I had sorely been missing since my departure from Themyscira. And now my family was disbanding, abandoning me once again and in the midst of all this anguish, all I could think about was Bruce.

His actions this afternoon had been cowardly, running away without facing me, and now, without my teammates, I was unsure of where my relationship with Bruce would stand, if it was there at all. To my everlasting chagrin, I knew that Bruce would view this as an ideal opportunity to forget about Princess Diana of Themyscira, to concede victory to a solitary life without ever giving us a chance.

_He was so stubborn!_ The man truly defined the word and although I knew that I had handled our confrontation this afternoon with as much patience as I could muster, looking back, I couldn't tell if I had managed to get through his thick skull and make my point clearly and rationally.

I meandered aimlessly into the night, taking slight consolation in the stars and the moon that lit my wanderings, finally collapsing beneath a strong oak tree, taking comfort in the strength that now shielded me, the mighty backbone of the tree pressed against my side as I lay my cheek against its trunk. It seemed that indeed, some things persevered no matter what and Gaia gave strength to this magnificent world, to its flora and fauna. And perhaps tonight, I would find my own strength through nature.

I lay there for a few minutes, my tears having long since dried and my thoughts turning again to this afternoon, to the fight I had somewhat provoked with Bruce. Alfred had been so sweet, turning to wipe my tears and console me when I had finally realized that the fading taillights meant that Bruce had run away from me, from our relationship. I had long since known the man was emotionally scarred, but I had never taken him for a coward. Until today.

His abrupt departure did not bode well for our future and I knew that every step we tried to take together would be a challenge, a winding staircase to our future with every step more difficult than the last. And although he may not have realized it yet, I was a woman who thrived on challenge, who enjoyed the difficulties that made life all the sweeter. If I had been a wallflower, a meek simpering creature, I would have remained in Themyscira, no matter the danger that faced the world or threatened my homeland.

I was a warrior. I backed down from nothing and no man and certainly not the Batman.

I stood for a moment, moving quietly in the night to a patch of grass just beyond the tree's leaves and tucking my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I sat in full view of the stars, taking a minute to praise Hera and my pantheon of gods for the bounty of the world and for letting me experience a new family and love, even if only for a short time.

The landscape was beautiful – dotted with stars and buildings, the light of the moon waxing into fullness and I couldn't help but think that the formation of our team had made a difference in this world, that what we had done together had mattered. Were we truly willing to give that up because of our egos and our distrust? I was saddened to realize that it was so and I recognized that my own ego had played a part in the dissolution of the Justice League, no matter how much I wanted to absolve myself of the blame.

At least part of my anger at Bruce had been taken out on my teammates, particularly the men of the group. Because of my frustration at not being able to corner the Bat in his cave, I had accused the male members of the League of being isolationists, of having to do everything on their own – I had accused them of exactly of what I had accused Bruce. I had reflected my anger at Bruce onto my teammates and for that, I was ashamed. They had not deserved my spiteful words and I was certain that Bruce and I could work out whatever problems were between us if only he would talk to me, if he would stay rather than flee.

Indeed, I had taken heart in Alfred's words, because I know the truth down to the depths of my soul – that Bruce loved me and through loving me, he tried to protect me. To Bruce, that protectiveness was part of his love, part of that all encompassing emotion that he often pretended that he was immune to.

But with me, at least lately, things had been different. He had actually spoken the words to me, actually said out loud that he returned my love, and I recognized that for Bruce to echo my words that he felt a surfeit of affection, that the depths of his feelings for me were not perhaps limitless, but certainly that he placed me alongside the other things that he cared for – his protégés, his family, and Gotham City.

I understood Bruce; at least, I understand the reasoning behind his protective measures, particularly once I had calmed, once Alfred had taken me under his wing and allowed his words to wash over me. But I still felt it necessary to address my concerns with the way that Bruce had treated me on the practice field – I wanted to be sure that he recognized me as an equal and respected my abilities, not seeking to restrict or check me in any way.

Love was not a reason for depriving someone of what lay in their nature, but a reason to celebrate their accomplishments and strengths, no matter how difficult or discomforting.

And it seemed that my love was uncomfortable with me, with my particular set of skills and abilities and that was something that we would have to address if we…if…

My mind couldn't even process the thought – I refused to consider that somehow Bruce and I wouldn't pull out of this quagmire we had found ourselves in. With a little faith and a little dialogue, I knew we would continue on this path we had found ourselves making.

Wrapping my arms tighter around my knees, I rested my chin on top of my wrists, studying the ground in solemn contemplation as if the answers to all my questions could be found in a single blade of grass. The wind had picked up, draping my bare shoulders and legs in quick gusts and spurts and I shivered with the drop in temperature. And then, suddenly, I found myself in the midst of heat and warmth, enveloped by a dark cape, the scalloped edges fingering my knees while the source of that formerly elusive warmth wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head and pulling my face into the heated place where his neck met his shoulder. I cuddled closer, dropping a small kiss on his neck, realizing that this was Bruce's method of apology, that this was the moment I should truly take to heart. He was choosing to abandon his solitary existence and had not only sought me out tonight, but had chosen to share his heat and his heart, wrapping me in a sweet and silent apology and I knew that whatever difficulties lay between us, we would face them together, connected, linked.

"Thank you," I whispered and his only answer was to pull me closer. We hadn't solved our problems, but we had solved our separation and for right now, I was content with that.

_Anyone else catch the VERY SUBTLE reference that good things are coming? (Hint, think Moon!) _

_Also a subtle reference to a DWParsnip story – Just one word, but it always makes me think of his story… Thanks for all your comments and inspiration (and emails), DW! _

_Next Chapter: I Need You – Bats and the others are in for a surprise…_


	7. I Need You

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, or pretty much all of this dialogue. Although wishes do sometimes come true!_

_I'm going to push the envelope and hope for 8 reviews this chapter – it only takes a few seconds! All comments appreciated. _

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- _

Chapter 7, I Need You, by Lynyrd Skynyrd

"Oh, baby, I love you, what more can I say? Oh, baby, I need you, I miss you more everyday"

(I almost paired this with a Beatles song, but Skynyrd stands alone. So do the Beatles for that matter.)

_Bruce's perspective-_

Last night, as I had sat there holding Diana in my arms, I realized that I had been an utter fool about this entire situation, that I hadn't taken the time to listen to her or to respond to her worries as she had needed me to. I was uncomfortable with emotion, uneasy with displaying my feelings in any manner other than total gruffness. She had been looking for nothing more than reassurances, a few well-chosen words to allay her fears and to restore her confidence in our relationship. And with the collapse of the team, of the League itself, Diana could take little comfort in familiar surroundings, in her new friends and family.

I had walked out on her along with the rest of them. I had determined to not go back, to remain a solitary vigilante in the city of Gotham and to hell with the rest of them. I, just as J'onn, had gotten over the loss of a family; I had lost my entire world and survived. No, thrived. I had thrived on the challenge of turning myself into the hero known as Batman, on training relentlessly, on pursuing knowledge and tactics, on finely honing my body until I was nothing more than steel and stealth.

I had walked out, knowing that I was leaving behind more than just teammates, I had been leaving behind friends and a family of sorts, just as the others had been. But unlike the others, I had walked out on Diana, on us and what could have been. And, as time progressed, I had begun to regret that move, to understand that losing the team did not have to mean losing Diana as well. For better or worse, she had become an integral part of my life and I needed her in it. To describe her as the very air I breathed seemed too romantic, too dependent, and too needy. She was more the scent of the air – you often took it for granted but the tenor of the sweet perfume made the day easier, more bearable to do the carry out the everyday tasks that life entailed.

And so, unsure of my steps and my words, I had sought Diana out, knowing that she would take solace in nature, comfort in the little pieces of Themyscira that she could see in the world outside her homeland. Finding her had been bittersweet – I still could not find the right words, but I knew that I had taken the right steps. Wrapping my arms around her huddled figure, I had held her for hours without speaking, simply taking comfort in her heat and strength, in the fact that through it all, we had managed to cling to each other, to keep the spark going among the dying embers of the team.

Still, I understood that a dialogue still loomed in our future, that last night had merely been a gesture that we had not walked away from another, but in the grand scheme of things, there were bigger worries – about us and about our teammates.

We had left the night in silence, Diana returning to Wayne Manor with me, exhausted from the day and from her emotions. She had known that returning to the Watchtower would be difficult, but she hadn't had any choice – she was without any other home. And so, I had taken her in my arms and brought her to my home, to my bed, and we had re-forged the bond between us with unspoken thoughts and minimal physical contact. This morning she had returned to the Watchtower, still deeply troubled, but able to face the others. I had let her go with nothing more than a touch on the arm, a lingering caress and hours later, I could still feel the warmth of her burning my fingertips.

The lasting effect of her skin, however, was minimized when I donned my Bat-suit, ready to again step out into Gotham and protect my city. I had done so before League support and I would continue, no matter that the group was in shambles.

Winging through the air in the Bat-jet, I heard a voice resonate from my Justice League communicator, a device I had apparently left in the plane last night, obviously concerned with other matters and a certain passenger.

"Yo, Bats! C'mon, pick up, I know you're there!" While the inflection sounded like Flash, the familiar frantic tone to it, the dialect led me to believe that I was dealing with someone else indeed. But I decided to play along for the time being, allowing my opponent to tip his hand and clue me in to his true identity, although I had an inkling of who the likely culprit was.

"What do you want?" I asked, deepening my tone, lending a gravelly resonance to it – similar to the irritation that usually colored my voice when dealing with the often foolish Flash.

"I bit off a little more than I could chew with Sinestro," he answered quickly, voice raised in obvious agitation. "You gotta give me some help here!"

"Thought you didn't need any," I added in a rejoinder to his comments last night, his belief that he could handle both his abilities and crime-fighting alone. And again, his words led me to have faith in my assumption that this was not truly Flash, but an imposter. After last night, Flash would never have requested help so quickly, so easily, and especially not from me. Flash didn't usually find me the approachable sort, much to my relief.

"Well, I do now! I'm at the old North Hill subway platform. Hurry!" came the quick response in Flash's voice. I knew that I was walking into a trap, but at least I was armed with the knowledge that I did indeed know exactly whom I would be facing – and how to stop him.

I walked down the darkened subway tracks, the cracked and peeling tile lining my path, every step silent as my mind considered exactly what I would be facing when I reached my destination. Emerging from the darkness, the first sight I encountered was that of Flash standing over the prone body of Sinestro, watching the villain with an expression I rarely associated with Flash after victory in battle – irritation. Noticing my arrival, he looked over at me, his quick smile eagerly displaying pride at his accomplishment, at his defeat of Sinestro.

"Looks like I didn't need you after all, yo. But you can help me tie him up," he told me, gesturing towards the floor where Sinestro lay face-down on the hunter green and white tiles.

As he spoke, I reached into my utility belt, pulling out a two-piece batarang, pressing a button to release the equipment while keeping the second piece firmly in my hand.

"Catch," I said quietly.

The batarang flew across the air with a whooshing sound, landing directly in Flash's chest and he let out a yelping scream, cementing my conclusion that this indeed was not the real Flash. The heavy gauge wire that linked the two pieces of the batarang lay vibrating between us, the tension in the string reflecting the tension that suddenly lit the air as the imposter Flash realized that he had been revealed.

And I decided to enlighten him, to disclose that I had known from the start that this could not truly be Flash. "The real Flash would have been too fast for that."

Pressing a button on my end of the batarang, electricity shot up the wire that led into the fake Flash's chest, arcing and spitting as it encountered the man at the other end, the man fast melting into a muddy pile on the tile floor, groaning in agony, smoking and crackling, as he reverted to his true form.

As Clayface collapsed, from the opposite side of the muddy pile still writhing in pain, I could see the beginnings of a yellow glow as Sinestro leapt into the air, making ready to fire off beams of yellow energy. I threw another batarang quickly, having anticipated this approach and making my own preparations while Clayface had fallen. The weapon hit Sinestro squarely in the chest, throwing him backwards and he landed with a thud on the floor behind Clayface.

"What gave me away?" Clayface asked. I moved closer to him, hoping to take advantage of his pained state to recapture him, before answering the question.

"You overplayed your part, yo," I countered, staring insolently into the muddy face, the huge yellow teeth dominating the jaw and the eyes barely visible, rolled halfway back in his agony.

And then, somewhat to my surprise, a voice surfaced from the far end of the subway tunnel and as the figure strode forward, I could make out the stocky form of Gorilla Grodd followed by the other members of his little group – Giganta, Parasite, Shade, and Killer Frost. Before I could move to elude capture, I was ensnared by a muddy fist and darkness overcame my vision.

-VvV-

I had left Bruce that morning with little more than a touch, but it seemed that had been enough. After he had arrived last night, holding me closely throughout the night, I had found my strength again, the sense of peace that guided my actions and lightened my burdens. I had felt strong enough to return to the Watchtower, the only home I had known since Themyscira, to face my former teammates with temerity and confidence. I refused to retreat from my newfound home, and I marched out of the teleporter with eyes flashing and shoulders thrown back, leading with verve and the all-encompassing knowledge that I belonged here. They could all go to Hades right now for all I cared.

Now that I was on a more even keel with Bruce, I felt certain that things would eventually even out here with the League as well, once tempers, including my own, had died down a bit. If Bruce were willing to take the first step with me to restore our relationship to rights, at least in part, then I knew that the breech within the team would heal as well in time.

But the Watchtower that morning had been empty, utterly devoid of the other members. I knew that many of the others had their own homes on Earth, but I had felt sure that someone else would have ventured back to our headquarters, if for no other reason that to gather their personal items.

I spent the afternoon in solemn contemplation, considering the various twists and turns that had befallen me since I had left Themyscira – the friends that I had made, the victories I had achieved, both personal and professional, and the newly formed relationship that I had embarked upon. I had both followed my Amazon teachings to the letter and utterly disobeyed them in the last two years, not only by bringing men to Themyscira, but I had the distinct impression that my mother would be less than pleased that I had entered into a romantic union with a man.

In the midst of my period of deliberation, just as dusk was starting to fall over the cities of Gotham and Metropolis, I received a communication through my Justice League communicator. It had become habit to always have it on my person, one I had yet to try to break myself of so soon after our split.

"Wonder Woman, we need you!"

As Flash's voice echoed from the communicator, I picked it up, a little confused by why he was calling me by my title rather than my name, but I assumed it was due to his discomfort after the scene last night.

"Flash?" I asked in a slightly confused tone.

"We need you at the practice field. Hurry!"

Wanting to roll my eyes in irritation at the interruption, I nevertheless decided to follow up on the request, making my way to the practice field at an unhurried pace. When I arrived, I was surprised to find myself alone in the midst of the deserted terrain. I began to prowl restlessly, certain that Flash had called me with good reason and willing to exercise a little patience. As the moments passed though, there was no sign Flash. However, Superman and J'onn arrived within moments of each other, each of us eyeing the others with barely concealed anger and hurt as the minutes crept by.

And then, another arrival made her way down from the sky, wings fluttering in annoyance as she descended.

Her first words were those of anger. "Well, where is he?"

Crossing my arms over my chest and holding myself rigidly, I asked myself the same question. Where was Flash?

"You know Batman," Superman answered, "Always has to make an entrance."

Although I agreed with his statement, I couldn't believe that Bruce had actually called him. For what reason? He had given me the impression that he had taken the disbanding of the League in stride, or at least he had held himself together better than I had. Something seemed wrong with this entire situation. And why would Flash call me and Batman call Superman to the same place? The odds that the two men were together were practically miniscule.

"Batman?" Shayera asked. "Lantern was the one who called me."

"I heard from Flash," I told the group and suddenly, our looks of hurts changed to expressions of bewilderment and concern. What had happened to the other members of our team? Where was Bruce?

J'onn's eyes flashed deep orange for a moment and as I heard a noise from the roof of one of the nearby buildings, I heard him yell, "No!"

As gunfire erupted from one of our practice range, I realized that this was a trap, a lure to get the remaining members of the Justice League here, and while I worried about Bruce's safety, my immediate concern was myself. Eluding the gunfire, I crouched to the ground, watching as J'onn phased through the weapon and destroyed it with a twist of his powerful arms.

To our horror, robots began emerging, each of those that we had been using so recently to practice our teamwork skills. Now, they seemed to be mocking us that we had been unsuccessful, that our team was once again in jeopardy of failure and this time, our lives were at stake. As Shayera took to the air with her mace firmly in hand, J'onn began to phase through the mechanical men, removing their inner workings as he emerged.

I jumped on one of them, crushing him to the ground before turning to kick one in the abdomen, routing his attack with one well-placed red boot.

Superman also sprang into actions, using his fists to decapitate the robots, and we continued to fight, to stop the mechanical assailment by whatever means we could, individually.

As Superman prepared to use his heat vision to destroy the robots, he called out a warning, and I immediately ducked, but Shayera was not so lucky – the beam skimmed the tips of her feathered wings and as she fell to the ground, without delay she yelled out, "Careful!"

"I told you to get out of the way," Superman retorted, anger clearly present in his voice. His attention totally focused on Shayera, he didn't notice Parasite on the roof of the building next to him and the villain jumped on him, sapping him of his strength and powers as they grappled on the ground.

Giganta rose from behind the building to an impressive height, with Killer Frost lacing an icy path to position herself next to the enormous woman. I could see Shayera, just in front of me, clench her mace tighter as she and J'onn took off to battle the two women. Hearing a noise, however, I turned to see the figures of Shade and Sinestro on the roof behind me.

Unknowing of the fate of the others, I faced off with Sinestro, bracing myself and deflecting his yellow powered form of an axe with my bracelets. Then, he suddenly switched motions, instead of repeated stabs, he began to press down on my crossed wrists with the axe, and I groaned in exertion, trying to fend him off. To my left I saw the figure of Shade raise his staff to release a stream of darkness, and with no free hands, I couldn't think of a way to escape this additional attack. And then, I spotted one of the silvery pieces of the robots and, raising my foot, quickly kicked the metal at Shade, hitting his staff and forcing the darkness upwards, directly into the face of Sinestro. Caught off guard, he halted his attack, struggling to regain light, and I took the opportunity to disarm Shade with a powerful punch to his jaw, sending him flying backwards and collapsing against the side of a building.

I turned to see a yellow panther materializing from the darkness surrounding Sinestro, growling, claws outstretched and fully extended. I deflected his attack with my bracelets and he launched himself into the air, forming a shield of yellow in front of him, blocking my assault. Seeing him struggle to maintain the form, I continue punching the shield with all the fury I could muster, attention totally focused on destroying the blockade and defeating Sinestro.

Therefore, I was completely taken off guard when Parasite took off into the air, his momentum pushing me forward as he wrapped his arms around me, driving me to the ground and depleting me of all strength. I struggled to keep my eyes open but weakness seeped into my body and finally, I let my blackness overtake me.

_Next Chapter: Love is a Battlefield – the team is forced to take on the Secret Society in a very public arena…literally…can they pull things together long enough to emerge victorious?_


	8. Love Is A Battlefield

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, etc, etc. Still hoping though!_

_All reviews appreciated! Thanks to those of you who have! _

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- _

_If you're unsure of how action progressed from Chapter 7 to 8, I'll try to simplify it. The Secret Society has captured all the members of the Justice League, or so they think… Determined to defeat them on a large stage, Gorilla Grodd and the Secret Society bring them to Gotham to…_

Chapter 8, Love is a Battlefield, by Pat Benatar

"We are strong; no one can tell us we're wrong…"

_Bruce's perspective-_

When I finally came to, I found myself encased in a glowing green glass tube, bound in an "X" shape with my hands and feet spread and, to my dismay, thoroughly unable to move or budge my bonds. Locked in place, I could only just turn my head to the side, secured at the neck as well, only moving enough to view the tail feathers of Hawkgirl to my left and the shining blue and red of Superman to my right. The others, I assumed, were also captured, imprisoned in similar fashion.

Taking in a deep breath, I recognized the telltale odor of chloroform, traces of it lingering in the air surrounding me. No doubt that was how I and the others had been kept unconscious. I had no idea of the time that had passed since the members of the Secret Society had lured me into their snare, their false Flash being used to imprison me. In my arrogance, I had allowed myself to believe that I was able to handle the likes of this group, but with the added addition of Gorilla Grodd, the cerebral powers of the group were too powerful for my mind to adapt to. I had been struggling to regain control of my mind and resume the fight when I had been seized, detained by the group of criminals and presumably placed in this electrified tube.

My capture had been somewhat of a learning experience – that no matter how finely honed the body, the mind was still a fickle machine, capable of rendering one powerless no matter the physical strength. It was a lesson that would pay for me not to forget in the future. And, once I engineered an escape, I would be certain to find a way to protect myself from Grodd's powers, to shield my mind from attack at all costs.

First though, discerning an escape route was my immediate concern. As I worked the bonds at my hands, trying to determine the amount of slack given to my wrists and fingers, I could hear a tinny voice echoing through the partial obscurity surrounding my prison – the voice of Grodd. I could make out pieces of what he was saying; listening intently, I realized that he was speaking through a microphone, the tinny echo being the only part that I could hear. Paying attention to the words I managed to catch, I heard the word arena and realized that he was addressing some sort of stadium crowd and my mind immediately harked back to days before when I had noticed that the Gotham Knights would be playing this weekend, a large stage not only filled with devoted fans but millions of viewers at his beck and call.

Realizing what Grodd intended, I quickly began to work at my bonds, trying in desperation to free myself and the others before we were released like puppets on a string, marionettes on the public stage for Grodd to humiliate us.

And then, to my frustration, I could hear the roof above my little prison cell begin to scrape apart, the panels rising to allow the imprisoned members of the Justice League to ascend through, into the stadium, into a nightmare scene of stunned faces and gasps of horror. We, the team who were supposed to be the heroes, the team who could protect the world from all harm, were put on display like animals at a zoo, trapped behind partitions for the world to stare at in disillusionment and antagonism.

We had disappointed them on and now we were nothing more than a spectacle, the remnants of a shattered team.

And Grodd began to play on the fear and the horror rumbling through the crowd. "There they are," he said, gesturing to us with his free hand. "Your heroes." I clenched my teeth and stared straight forward, not wanting anyone to see the shame and degradation rolling through me to be displayed in such a manner, to have the entire world knowing that I had been unable to elude capture, that I was less than absolutely perfect at my chosen occupation. I couldn't even listen to Grodd's speech, tuning out the words with all the powers of concentration that I possessed.

Yet, unexpectedly, the magnified tubing surrounded me had disappeared and the braces securing me were released, allowing me freedom. I immediately dropped my hands, stepping forward to look down at our rescuer – a hero in the form of a man of clay. And then, before my eyes, he transformed into another familiar figure – a green Martian complete with blue cape and serious expression. Leaping down to the group, I prepared myself for battle, knowing that what lay ahead would require each of our strengths, both individually and as a team.

I watched the frozen form of what I had assumed was J'onn J'onnz tumble to the ground from his imprisonment, the ice shattering and the pieces suddenly liquefying, reforming into the villainous Clayface as he took his place next to the Secret Society members.

"Grodd's been messing with our minds," said Green Lantern, hovering just behind me.

"Great," said Flash, irritation lacing his voice, "How do we fight it?"

"We get over it, that's how," Green Lantern returned, a hard edge to his voice and his features.

And then, our battle cries roaring in our ears, we took off across the field, some on the sky, some on the ground, racing towards our opponents on this field of battle, the Secret Society, knowing that this was our chance to redeem ourselves as a team, to prove that we could defeat these criminals in public or private, with or without the tension that had crept up into our group as of late.

Chaos erupted on the field, each of us working together, working alone, taking on one, two villains at a time, trying badly to bring this skirmish to a close, to prove victorious at long last against this group. I unleashed batarang after batarang, keeping careful tabs on my teammates to ensure that none of us were falling or failing, that we had learned from our previous encounters and were putting those teachings into effect.

I observed Shade advancing on me, staff in hand, as the darkness streamed out, I launched myself into the air, flipping over the inky curtain of black and aiming a batarang at the "nightstick." As it hit, the staff flew into the air, disarming Shade and I almost laughed at the expression of panic and shock on his face. It wasn't as if we hadn't told him in previous times to get a handle for the weapon. But I managed to keep my face straight, glowering at him as I put my lessons from the past into effect, stalking him as he retreated, moving backwards step by step.

"You never learn, do you?" I asked him, dark humor at the forefront and feeling victory close at hand, I was a trifle cocky in the choice of my words.

I reeled backwards when his foot planted itself against my jaw, surprising a groan out of me as I fell, ill-prepared for his martial maneuver.

"Actually," he replied calmly, "I have learned a few things." And then, assuming a martial arts stance, he waited. I rose to my feet and reflecting his pose, beckoned him forward, egging him to take me on. He lunged forward and I dodged, bobbing and weaving, before taking off forwards and returning the favor he had given me earlier, knocking him to the ground with a well-placed kick.

Around me, the battle raged, ice flying as Killer Frost worked her particular form of terror, Hawkgirl and Grodd locked in a desperate fight for supremacy, and Green Lantern and Sinestro trading blow after blow from their power rings. With our side steadily winning, I watched as the Society members began to lose their teamwork abilities and steadily retreat into single combat, desperately trying to contain us, but to no avail.

Shade and I were still locked in combat as well, until in stepped the familiar blue and red form of Superman stepped in between us, surprising Shade, bringing a look of panic to his pale features as he stumbled off backwards, seeking to escape as he shouted, "I knew this wouldn't work! I knew it!"

And he turned, spindly legs beginning to pick up speed and I released a batarang, its coils looping around Shade's legs and toppling him and his top hat to the ground.

"I could have…" I began to say to Superman before abruptly stopping myself. As much as I didn't want to admit it to myself, the other members of the League had become well-respected colleagues and their help was invaluable to my work on occasion. Deep inside, a little piece of me screamed that they were also, although I would deny it profusely to anyone who suggested it, friends. At least, of a sort. Together, they had changed my life, allowing me to focus on Gotham knowing that the rest of the world was secure under their watchful eyes. For that alone, I owed them the courtesy of a due of respect.

"What?" Superman said angrily, turning to face me with eyes flaring with the heat locked inside him, the barely suppressed rage.

And, for once, I gave the man his due, in words that rarely managed to cross my mind or my lips. "Thanks."

From behind us, with a roar, Clayface loomed, soaring twenty feet into the air and transforming his body into a slue of appendages, each carrying an assortment of weapons. As the fists began to fly, I dove backwards, out of his immediate range. And then a red blur appeared, flying around the bottom of Clayface and planting display fireworks every few feet of mud he encountered. He raced off and Hawkgirl swooped down, lighting the fireworks with her energy mace and within seconds, the upper body of Clayface was blasted into the air courtesy of the explosives while colored lights dotted the skyline, a breathtaking end to seal our victory. Cheers rose from the crowd, excitement and relief heavy in the air.

After Superman dispensed with Grodd, Flash raced over to him, signaling for a high five in obvious elation, his smile young and sweet in its exuberance.

"We're back in business!" he yelled above the noise and when Superman made no move to return the gesture, his face began to fall, concern dotting his expression. "Aren't we?"

"A lot of things were said," replied Diana, arms crossed over her chest, as the rest of us walked over to join the two.

"Yeah, but that was all mind control. We didn't mean…" Flash began, his face thoughtful and so unbelievably youthful in its naïveté.

"We meant every word," stated J'onn and Flash looked around at the other members of the Justice League. Forgiveness was not written on any of the faces – mostly, it was a mixture of irritation and shame as we realized that we had a long way to go before we could move past this incident and truly work together as a team in any capacity.

"So, what do we do?" Shayera asked in a soft voice, refusing to meet any of our eyes, her usual boldness missing from her current demeanor.

"All we can do is say we're sorry and move on," asserted John Stewart, before we walked out of the stadium.

_Next Chapter: The Warrior – A sparring session leads to some unexpected results…_

_Great line from this episode that I skipped: Giganta to Superman: You wouldn't hit a woman, would you? The sadistic boy-scout (hehe) actually stops, mid-battle like, you're right! I can't! And then in flies Diana, who says: I would. Now that's a woman. _

_Just wanted to let all of you know - no update tomorrow. No access to the computer, sorry! But Monday is SiriusLover's birthday, so I'll definitely post one then!_

**HELP WANTED**: I know that I'm writing the episode Hereafter next, and right now, I'm working on a title for it, based, as always, on some quote from the episode. Well, I found too many, so I'm taking some votes! And other suggestions.

Here are my options:

The Darkness

The Never Ending Battle

The World's Greatest Hero

There's Still Hope

Things to Say

Nothing but Respect


	9. The Warrior

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, etc, etc. Still hoping though!_

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- _

_Hope you're enjoying this take on "Secret Society" – are you almost ready for it to come to a close? Anyone have any ideas for "Hereafter"? I have a few…Suggestions welcome though. _

_Sorry, another sorta short chapter! A Happy Birthday Shoutout to Jen, Siriuslover4eva - hope it's a great one._

Chapter 9, The Warrior, by Scandal

"Shootin' at the walls of heartache, bang! Bang! I am the warrior…"

_Diana's perspective-_

I walked out of Gotham Stadium side by side with Bruce, careful not to let our bodies touch, to maintain the distance between us that couldn't be overcome at this particular moment. Right now, each of us was too raw, still ripe with emotions from the battle we had just concluded and the questions surrounding the future of the Justice League.

My eyes stayed firmly downcast, unsure of what to say to any of my teammates and currently unwilling to make the first move, whether it was in friendship or in anger. I hadn't managed to thoroughly process my feelings and I knew that right now, I was still too edgy from the fight, too swept up in the current of emotion racing through me to think logically.

The tension was palpable – each of us was quiet, trapped in our own thoughts and musings as the cheers of the crowd echoed behind us, a painful reminder of what they believed we stood for in comparison with the actuality of our current situation, a fractious, depressed group on the verge of collapse.

It was all simply too much to deal with and I watched as again, we went our separate ways, scattering like leaves on the wind, unable to bring either closure or a reforming. Not now, not today. Today was not a day for forgiveness, but for quiet reflection and time best spent alone.

And so I returned to the Watchtower, its hall hallowed with silence, the very stillness unusual. We were people of strength, of character and fortitude, of action and today; the change in our headquarters was markedly out of the ordinary.

The Monitor Room stood empty, no one supervising potential crises on Earth. The kitchen was quiet, no scarlet speedster gracing its presence for iced mochas and laughingly making fun of Green Lantern or Batman, "Bats" as he was affectionately referred to. There was no somewhat affectionate bickering between Green Lantern and Hawkgirl, as had been the case as of late, their arguments raging through the hallways as their stubborn wills clashed.

My room, however, was just as I had left it, but right now, all I wanted was a shower, to rinse away the day and start anew. Stripping out of my uniform, I headed for the shower and let the warm water revive my body and my spirits. I found myself humming softly as I exited the shower, drying myself with a towel and letting my hair stream down my back in wet rivulets.

Throwing my sopping towel onto the floor, I collapsed naked onto the bed, laying on my back and simply luxuriating in the feel of softness beneath me, taking a moment to relax and close my eyes, snuggling in and quickly falling into dreamless sleep.

When I awoke, I realized that it was time for action – it was time for me to confront Bruce and, Hera help him, discuss his protective tendencies in potentially dangerous situations. I was not going to simper and sulk, I was going to act, to take matters into my own hands whether the foolish man was prepared or not. He had made progress in our relationship the other night when he had sought me out, but I still felt that there were some points between us that needed to be cleared up, to be aired out so that each of us knew where the other stood. I had a feeling that there would be many more discussions such as this one with the continuation of our relationship. John and Shayera weren't the only members of the team with iron wills and right now, I was more than willing to initiate the first steely stroke. Donning my uniform, I quickly left my room, hurrying down the corridor.

Via the teleporter, I arrived in the Bat-cave, battle ready and armed with words when I noticed that the Batmobile was not in its usual spot. I groaned as realization hit – this hour of night, Bruce would certainly be out in Gotham, protecting the city. In my haste, I had not even considered the fact of time, just simply rushed here, eager to work through this with Bruce. And now, body tensed in anticipation, I didn't simply want to turn around and make my way back to the Watchtower. When I looked at the clock, I realized that Bruce would not be out much longer on patrol; that he would be returning within the hour with the dawning of the day.

Somewhat surprised that Alfred had not come down to the cave, I realized that the lateness of the hour would have prevented him from greeting me. The dear man was probably asleep in bed – my shocking appearance could not have been expected, or at this hour, much appreciated.

Looking around, I observed a section of the cave reserved obviously as a training room, a dojo and weight room combined to exercise all manner of skills. That would certainly be a constructive way to pass the time, to relax the tension that had invaded my body as I had left my room, intent on coming here.

After stretching, I began to move, limbering up my limbs and taking advantage of the time until Bruce returned.

-VvV-

Returning to the Bat-cave, I immediately detected a light shining in one of the side rooms – the exercise room to be exact. Quietly extracting myself, I leapt to the floor, feet landing softly as I moved closer, intent on discovering the identity of this predator. From the back recesses of my mind, I was reminded that Alfred had not come down to greet me, to ensure my health upon my return, or warned me of "a guest." This lack of action could only mean one of two things – Alfred had been taken hostage by the intruder or that he knew the identity of whomever was in the exercise room and had taken upon himself not to enlighten me.

Hearing low sounds emanating from the exercise room, I snuck stealthily closer, lingering in the shadows until I came in view of the room and my visitor – Diana. Letting out a small sigh of relief, I watched as she continued her movements, relentlessly pushing through the air with her arms, her face blushed with the sheen of perspiration and lit in fierce concentration. Beautiful. She spun on her heel, obviously intent on finishing off an invisible foe behind her when she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at me, stunned look written all over her face.

"Your technique could use some work, Princess," I told her, striding forward to within several feet of her, body loose and cape drawn around me. It had been a rather light night in Gotham and a sparring session might be just the thing to end the night with, to release the tension between us and hopefully loosen my tongue into emitting an apology.

She looked straight at me, breathing heavy due to her exertions, but her eyes lit with a teasing twinkle in them and immediately, I could see it radiating through her body as well, her hands landing on her hips and a smile teasing her face.

"Checking up on me?" she asked, the words an exact echo of those she had used in a Parisian hotel room. "Unfair advantage, Mr. Wayne." She pointed a figure at me, shaking it in mock anger before continuing. "Perhaps you could help me with…my technique?"

Her smile saucy, her hair falling in lustrous waves around her faces, I couldn't bring myself to look at further down her body - my mind was already in danger of a massive hemorrhage due of oxygen and I didn't want to take any chances. Reigning in my runaway hormones, I answered, a lust-filled bite to my words, "Anytime."

"Really?" she responded, her face glowing with anticipation and a smirking expression on her lips, "Then let's go."

She beckoned me forward, just as Shade had done earlier, and mimicking my earlier movements as well, I smiled, knowing that this exercise would result in little more than a grope fest.

I was half-wrong.

The teasing expression wiped from her face, she faced me intently as we circled one another before launching into the parry and thrust of battle. I could tell that she was not using her full strength, but I soon realized that this sparring between us meant something to Diana, as if her intention was to showcase her talents, to force me to understand that she was a strong, powerful woman, more than capable of defeating me in battle. And as the lust cleared from my mind, I realized that this battle between us was about more than physical prowess, it was about what she had been trying to tell me the other day when I had left without a word – our relationship was one of equality. I didn't have to worry about her like I did the others in my life, the citizens of Gotham, Alfred, and the like. I could relax my constant vigil because she could fend for herself more capably than any other person or woman in my life.

And with my brain trying to come to grips with this revelation, for once in my life, I neglected to pay the proper amount of attention to the woman sparring with me. As I stood there slack-jawed, her fist connected with my face and, reeling backwards even though her hit had been at less than full strength, I fell backwards onto the mat, my jaw throbbing with bruising a definite possibility.

I lay there for a moment, shocked that I had been so careless during a training session, and then Diana's face came into my view, only inches from my tired eyes, one of her hands gently caressing my aching jaw while the other brushed away my cowl, rubbing her knuckles softly down the side of my face.

"Bruce?"

I decided that advantage always lay in a surprise attack and immediately used her distraction to my benefit, pulling her down and pressing her lips hard against mine, regardless of the pain. This was the best kind of medicine, a loving woman with a kiss like heaven.

Clasping my heads around her head, I pulled her face back to stare into her eyes, cobalt now with desire and concern lacing their depths.

"I…understand…what…you…meant…before," I told her, voice deepening with arousal, punctuating each word with small kisses to her jaw line. "We're equals."

In her eyes, I could now read satisfaction and joy suffused her entire expression as she understood what my words truly meant, that I would try to relax my protective tendencies around her because I knew that she could stand alone, needing not a hand up, but a hand out…to her, in friendship and in love. I was secure enough in my own manhood to appreciate and respect that quality in a woman, especially one who rewarded my words with a lasting kiss, our tongues now in the dance of parry and thrust, enjoying the sweetness of battle.

Suddenly, she pulled back, looking at me with the return of that teasing glint that I loved so much.

"So, who won?" she asked coyly, running her hands down my chest to linger at my waist, rubbing softly, causing the heat inside me to boil and I grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, flipping her and pressing my body down into her as her arms wrapped around my back. Burrowing my hands in her hair, I muttered, "Who cares?" and resumed our lustful dance.

_Next & Last Chapter: Dream On - The 7 try to mend their group..._

_Thanks for everyone who's been reviewing – greatly appreciated as always! Shooting for a total of at least 66 reviews (that's how many I received for the last story, One Spark, and I'm determined to beat it!) Help me out!_

_And currently in the lead for the title of the next story is...There's Still Hope. Anyone else want to add a vote? (See Chapter 8 for other title names)_


	10. Dream On

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League. Or much of anything else for that matter._

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- _

_Ah, the bittersweet ending to yet another story – I hate to see it go, but I'm ready to enjoy working through another one. Are you ready to say goodbye to "Every Word"? Remember, if you love it, favorite it!_

Chapter 10, Dream On, by Aerosmith

"Sing with me, sing for the years

Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears

Sing with me, if it's just for today

Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away"

This chapter is dedicated to my mother because she's always the first one to throw herself into having a good time and make the most out of everything. Kind of like Flash!

_Diana's perspective-_

Lying underneath Bruce, pinned to the mat totally in the thrall of the man above me, I honestly couldn't have cared less who had won our little tussle. It had been less about the battle and more about who had won the war of words and I currently felt decidedly victorious, thrilling to the knowledge that Bruce respected my abilities and my equality. Of course, the fact that I was engaged in a fiery duel of tongues and honey-sweet lips only added to the fevered excitement of the moment.

My body felt loose and limber, but tension was quickly mounting in a flurry of shivery pangs running the length of my spine and concentrating in the pit of my stomach. Heat spiked with each touch of Bruce's fingers, each gentle stroke and powerful clasp of palms slicing through my concentration and forcing my brain to surrender completely to arousal and excitement, the kind that I had only felt in the presence on this man, this modern-day Odysseus who dedicated his life to being a hero to the world and to his city.

And now that same hero was licking my sweat-sheened skin, the wet, heated path of his tongue causing me to gasp and moan, trying to simultaneously avoid the sexy sweep and allow him more through access to the jaw line he was currently engaged in nibbling and sucking. I closed my eyes, letting the heat roar through my system, pooling in my stomach and causing me to wriggle in frustration, to press against Bruce to ease the vicious ache that was currently overloading my system.

And yet, that tongue continued lower, lining a silky path down my neck and tracing a pattern across the top of my uniform, the hot wetness marking me just above the double-W emblazoned on my chest. Knotting my hands in his soft hair, I gasped as his tongue dipped below the uniform, flicking a nipple in a careless caress that caused an immediate reaction to my anatomy.

Eager to again taste him, to feel the hard sweep of his tongue against mine, I pulled his face back to mine, voraciously devouring his mouth and tangling our mouths in the sweet duel of kisses. My hands were unable to touch his chest due to our current position, so I decided to enjoy the sinewy strength of his back, burrowing my hands beneath the cape, the feel of the iron just under the skin forcing me to wonder just what the man looked like without the cape, the cowl…and the costume. The sight would be pleasurable and certainly arousing – the finely honed strength, the ripple of power and muscle all exposed to me, all available for me to partake in and enjoy at my leisure and in full.

The thought caused the ache in me to intensify, to build in a rippling effect across my body, the sparks flying down my spine and landing in oblivion across my senses. Thrashing on the mat, still pinned, I barely heard the voice that suddenly came into my ear.

"Wondy? You there?"

Letting my head fall back as the lips that had been pressed against mine suddenly made a detour back to the lobe of my ear, nipping at the tender flesh, I let out quick bursts of air, quiet pants as I tried desperately to get my pleasure filled senses back under control in order to speak, to answer in more than a breathy whisper due to lack of oxygen.

"What is it, Flash?" I answered in a more even tone, my breath slowly returning to me as Bruce turned to look at me, releasing my flesh, our eyes meeting in frustration and apology as I realized that once again, a private moment between the two of us was to be broken up by the greater needs of the world. His body still pressed against me, but sanity was beginning to return as the urgent demands of our bodies were again placed on hold due to circumstances beyond our control. Soon, I vowed, even the gods would not be able to stop me from being with this man. In every way.

With a shake of my head, I tuned back into Flash, trying desperately to ignore the steeliness pressed against me and listen with some attention to my teammate. Unfortunately, a pair of eyes had me ensnared, losing myself in the darkness that reflected my intentions as to our relationship – the desperate ache that ran alongside the deepening emotional whirlwind in which we had found ourselves. Therefore, I heard very little of Flash's words other than Watchtower and I could tell that Bruce's usual intensity was also lacking in listening to the speedster, in shifting through the nuances and picking apart each word for deeper meanings as was his usual practice; instead, we were lost in each other, in the heat and the blaze that roared between us, tossing our sensible selves to the side in the haste for fulfillment, emotional and physical.

Murmuring "Uh-huh," I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the ache that had filled me relax a little and I could feel the hardened body above me do the same, our senses focusing again on something other than each other, than the desperate race for pleasure and abatement of the throbbing need within me. Rolling off of me, I heard Bruce groan in frustration, gritting his teeth as he looked at me with a needy glance – one I immediately sought to sooth, to help him realize that he wasn't the only one with the physicality of our relationship needing some soft of completion.

"Next time," I told him, hoping that I could fulfill those words and that dream, that I could let this man into my body, let him love me physically as well as emotionally.

He gritted his teeth, frustration evident in every line of his body as he made his way gingerly to his feet. And before he could speak, his communicator sounded of Flash's voice as well.

"Hey, Bats?"

"What?" he growled in routine, his tension obvious in his voice, in the harsh quality to the words one even the Batman voice didn't usually quite reach.

"Uh," Flash stumbled over the words, apparently hearing the edge in the word that Bruce had uttered, "We need you, uh, at the Watchtower."

"Fine," Bruce answered before closing the line of communication and closing his eyes, breathing deeply in what I assumed was a type of meditation, a way to relax the pent-up sexual energy coursing through his body. When he again opened his eyes, I had made my way to my feet, and a gave him a small, somewhat shy smile, hoping his nerves would allow him to return it, to prove to me that he could again don the stoic façade of Batman. He simply raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

"Let's go," he said calmly, throwing on his cowl and gesturing for me to precede him to the teleporter.

I left for the Watchtower first, winking at Bruce as I exited the Bat-cave, knowing that he would wait several minutes before making his appearance at our headquarters. If we arrived together, too many people would question it, something that in our current tense states, neither Bruce nor I could handle.

Walking down the corridor, I came upon the lounge room, the entire area set up in festive colors and decorations – lights, balloons, and streamers dangled from the ceiling in a dazzling array. A small machine stood in the corner and nearby a cooler overflowing with ice and beverages - beers and sodas - with a merrily decorated table piled with food including all kinds of sweets from what I could determine, chocolates and cakes and the like.

"Hey, Princess" cried out Flash, racing up to me in a blur of red. "Have something to drink." He raced over to the cooler, grabbing me something cold and handing in to me in less than a second. I held the icy beverage in my hand as I looked around me in amazement.

"What is this, Flash?" I asked him, curious as to the celebratory atmosphere dominating this particular sector of the Watchtower.

"Party!" he exclaimed. "I figured we needed a little something to lighten us up and what's more fun than a party?" He shrugged a little, almost in embarrassment and gave me a sheepish look. And suddenly, I understand what this little occasion was about – it was about us, the Justice League, bringing us together as more than teammates, as friends. This was a party to celebrate us and I appreciated the sentiment behind it and the obvious effort that Flash had put into the event.

"It's a wonderful idea, Flash," I told him seriously, patting his shoulder and giving him a wide smile, relieving him of his worries as he rushed over to greet the other arriving members of the team.

I walked around, sipping the cola that Flash had placed in my hands and enjoying the decorations and cheery atmosphere that now pervaded the Watchtower. I had a feeling that while Bruce would outwardly find this irritating and useless in the extreme, he too would realize the point of the celebration, the bonding that Flash was attempting to resurrect with a party, albeit a small one. And who better than the optimistic speedster to prepare such a celebration to re-forge the Justice League? Dionysus himself could not have done such as fine job.

Watching the expressions on the others as they entered, I could see the interest on the faces, the lightening of the tensions that had invaded our little battle group due to nothing more than one of us taking the effort to patch our friendships, to create a fun atmosphere in which we could laugh and share our time together.

As Bruce walked in, I nearly laughed. Flash might not have noticed it, but, knowing him so well, he looked almost taken aback so shocked was his expression. I had a feeling that this type of welcome was the last thing that he had expected. His mouth immediately hardened into a firm line, but I could see the sneaking smile lurking on his lips as he took in the decorations and festivities.

Looking hard at Flash, he asked severely, "What…is…this?"

Flash, gulping a deep breath, answered tentatively, knowing this man would be the hardest to convince of his good intentions and his idea. "Uh, a party?"

"Waste of time," Bruce stated, scowling at Flash. "I have work to do."

"C'mon, Bats! Just for a few minutes…"

"Fine," he snapped, "But you're responsible for cleaning this mess up." And then, he stalked away, walking over to join Green Lantern by the cooler of drinks. From my corner, I could visibly see Flash relax, the tension leaving his body as he realized that Batman was going to leave his head on his shoulders.

Over the course of the next hour, none of us mentioned the tensions of the past few days. Instead, we concentrated on enjoying ourselves, on taking a little time away from work to connect with our teammates. I even caught Bruce relaxing his grip on his scowl once in awhile, unwinding just enough to enjoy a few moments among his teammates.

Until Flash decided that it was time to add a little music into the mix.

"Hey, guys! Karaoke time!"

Standing next to Green Lantern, I could audibly hear his groan and I turned to him with a question in my eyes. "Karaoke?" I asked and I could see Shayera with the same look on her face.

Superman answered my question with a little grin on his face, obvious amused by Flash's idea. "It's a music entertainment device that provides accompaniment and shows you the lyrics so that you can sing along to whatever song of your choosing. Obviously Flash's idea of a good time."

It sounded intriguing to me – people taking to the stage to sing regardless of talent level and expertise, just for the pure enjoyment of the music and the song. And I had a feeling that Flash was used to being center stage, even for karaoke.

He began belting out a song that I was unfamiliar with, but the lyrics struck me as perfect for our team at the moment and I could see everyone watching Flash, some laughing, others stoic, but each of us paying attention.

_What would you think if I sang out of tune,_

_Would you stand up and walk out on me._

_Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song_

_And I'll try not to sing out of key._

_I get by with a little help from my friends,_

_I get high with a little help from my friends._

"I haven't heard the Beatles in forever," murmured Superman and I looked at him with a question written on my face. He must have seen it because he quickly answered, "It's the name of a band."

Regardless of the band and Flash's questionable singing talents, the song was certainly appropriate, and I enjoyed the sounds of laughter in the room, the glow on everyone's faces as they enjoyed the moment. Even Bruce seemed to have lightened up a little bit, not quite as aloof as he usually portrayed himself, the set of his shoulders not as stiff as was normal.

After Flash wrapped up his rendition of the Beatles song, he paused for a moment, the hiss and crack of the microphone feedback the only noise in the room, and then suddenly a pounding beat hit the room, the music funky and upbeat and Flash began to clap his hands together around the microphone.

"Everybody dance!" he yelled, shaking his hips and wildly gyrating, vaguely in rhythm with the song. As the music continued and Flash began singing, John began to laugh, putting his palms on his knees and bending over in hopes of catching his breath. Wondering at his strange reaction to the song, I looked at Shayera but her expression reflected my own – utter bewilderment at what had provoked John's reaction. Superman had his hand over his face, obviously trying to stifle his laughter, shoulders shaking in amusement. I looked at Bruce, who was standing next to me, hoping that he would have the answers to why this song had caused such hilarity.

"Y-M-C-A!" shouted Flash, moving his arms to replicate the letters that he was currently vocalizing.

"It's a very popular song to dance as a group to," stated Bruce, cracking a slight smile as he stared at Flash's antics, the wild gyrations and the obvious enjoyment.

"Everybody!" yelled Flash and I could see J'onn staring at Flash in total bemusement, obviously wondering about this particular Earth tradition and its significance in popular culture. I looked at Shayera with a question in my eyes and she shrugged her shoulders in a "why not" gesture.

And together, we walked over to Flash and began to mimic his movements as we stood next to him, trying desperately to get the movements correct and giggling the entire time, determined to have a good time and enjoy this Earth cultural phenomenon to its fullest. John was still laughing uproariously, doubled over in amusement provided by Flash, Shayera, and I, but I didn't care. Our group was together again, laughing and enjoying our time together and not at each other's throats. Superman was still laughing as well, and even Bruce had managed to crack a smile, albeit a tiny one.

"Y-M-C-A!"

None of the men ever managed to join in on the song, but after that, there was no tension in the group, only laughter and enjoyment, laughing while reminiscing over Flash's antics and general hilarity. Flash worked his way around the room, outrageously cheerfulness and flirting with Shayera and me at every possible opportunity, cracking jokes and generally enjoying himself to the fullest. The others of us were less jovial in our enjoyment, but still, smiles were the order of the day as we helped ourselves to the goodies and beverages Flash had provided. J'onn, of course, had little other than Oreo cookies throughout the day, but I noticed even Batman sneaking a cookie when he thought that the others wouldn't notice.

As the next hour wore down, Shayera and I both took our turns at the karaoke machine, allowing Flash to choose our song selection for us. Neither of us were particularly familiar with popular songs of the time and figured if nothing else, he would provide us with songs that would make the others laugh. For Shayera, Flash choose "All Jacked Up" by a country singer named Gretchen Wilson. The lyrics seemed rather appropriate for the warrior woman in Shayera, the take no holds fighter who loved a rowdy and boisterous time.

_5:30 PM rolls around, _

_There's a little old joint outside of town_

_Only got the time for a couple of beers_

_And a jukebox song ringing in my ear_

She had a little bit of a hard time following the tempo of the song, but she managed to pull it off admirably and I could see that John was particularly enjoying the performance since Shayera was dancing and throwing herself into having a good time. And a few alcohol beverages certainly helped the good-humored attitude along.

For myself, Flash chose a song with a slower tempo, but I soon realized that this song was all about attitude and the lyrics. And I certainly admired the lyrics and thought it rather appropriate not only for a Princess but for my recent relationship woes. And I threw myself into the attitude, teasing and playing with the notes and saucily shaking my finger at the audience, thoroughly enjoying my time as center of attention, particularly when I noticed that one particular set of eyes was watching my every movement. And so I decided to relish the moment for all it was worth, to give Bruce an eyeful and a little tease even in front of our teammates.

_R-E-S-P-E-C-T_

_Find out what it means to me_

_R-E-S-P-E-C-T_

_Take out the TCP_

After much coercing and badgering, Flash managed to also get Superman to get up and sing for the group as well – he dramatically teased his hair back and began laughing whilst busting out the words originally recorded by someone called Elvis Presley.

_You ain't nothing but a hound dog_

_You ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine_

I assumed his on-stage dramatics had something to do with the original singer, but I enjoyed the performance nonetheless. He seemed slightly embarrassed to have sung in front of the group, but his sheen of respectability was still firmly in place. The other men refused to do any singing, although I believe that John Stewart was close to performing, worried about preserving his dignity around the rest of us. The time together was spent in laughter and in pleasure. Flash often took up the microphone, serenading us with his tunes and ensure that we were bonding, that we were once again enjoying each other's company and becoming not only friends but a team again. Today wasn't about dignity or respect, it was about friendship and solidarity, on enjoyment and laughter, the things that bound us together alongside justice and truth.

And it was working.

Stifling a yawn, I noticed Batman catching my eye from across the room and I excused myself from my teammates, using the justification that I needed my sleep. I had had little sleep the previous night and it was beginning to catch up with me. I knew that Bruce would leave soon and I wanted to make sure that we could have a private moment together before he returned to Gotham, to patrolling and protecting his city later this evening.

I walked out the door and down the corridor to my room, opening the door, secure in that knowledge that Bruce would be inside. And I was unsurprised. Swiftly pressing his lips to mine, he stole my breath with the passion in his kiss, the sweetness that found its way through, the sweetness that was so rare in Bruce, in Batman. Sweeping romantic gestures would never be Bruce, but I enjoyed finding the little moments, the little motions that showed his feelings and his love for me.

He pulled away, giving me a quick kiss before walking towards the door. But he turned back at my words.

"Why didn't you sing, Bruce?" I whispered to his back. "I'd love to hear it."

His face looked surprised, a little dumbfounded by my words, but I wanted to hear his voice, hear that baritone tenor in song. The very thought sent chills down my spine, the thought of his voice sliding down my spine, the sexy tone and the soft words filling the air and my ears.

"For you, Princess?"

I stepped close to him, pressing my lips to his ear and murmuring, "Please." I felt the slight reaction within him to my breathe teasing his ear; feel him fight the innate response to both my actions and my question. And then, to my astonishment and pleasure, he pushed aside my hair, wrapping his arms around my waist and softly singing into my left ear:

Softly, deftly, music shall surround you ...  
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you ...  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight -  
the darkness of the music of the night.

Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!  
Let your soul  
Take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me ...

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin,  
let your darker side give in to the power of  
the music that I write - the power of the music of the night ...

You alone can make my song take flight -  
help me make the music of the night ...

With the last haunting note, he brushed a hand down my hair, placing a soft kiss on my lips and silently disappearing through the door. I kept my eyes closed, falling back on the bed with a gentle smile, knowing that his voice would linger in my memory, that today had brought the Justice League back together and had allowed Bruce to grant me something special, my own music of the night.

_Next story: There's Still Hope, Batman and Wonder Woman's relationship is led through yet another chapter of their lives – the episode Hereafter. How will the loss of Superman affect their relationship? And someone else will find out about the relationship. If you have any suggestions for this episode, I would love to hear them._

_LG - Thanks for the great beta. I appreciate all the help that you give me - the feedback and the friendship. _

_Thanks for everyone who has reviewed – greatly appreciated as always! You all have really supported me through this story and this saga and I love it!_

_To my Anonymous reviewer - just wanted to let you know that you hit the nail on the head about who finds out about the relationship next - and I haven't quite decided what the reaction will be. Thanks for the review - I appreciate it!_

_For those of you wondering, the last song is courtesy of the Phantom of the Opera and it's called The Music of the Night. It's hauntingly lovely and very fitting for Batman – the masked figure who lives in the darkness and falls in love. Perhaps a different ending though..._


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